Neutral Corners
by Ariel119
Summary: Character views of the events of 'Knockdown'. Could not possibly be MORE spoiler heavy.   Rated T for brief references to violence.
1. Rick

_**Author's Note: Yes, I am jumping into the fray of fan fictions inspired by 'Knockdown'. Could not help myself. But this time I am not jumping alone. This chapter goes to Tango Mike Charlie, my own plucky sidekick/partner in OCD crimes. This story is inspired as much by our discussions as it is by the episode that made them necessary.**_

* * *

Rick, as she had _finally_ seen fit to call him, sat beside Kate in her unmarked car. It was actually a miracle the thug standing watch on the stoop hadn't made the Crown Vic already. If they'd had time, he would have suggested a rental. He watched her carefully as she worried at her lip with her teeth. "He'll see SWAT a block away and they'll both be dead. I'm open to dumb ideas, here, Castle."

He didn't mind that she'd reverted to calling him that when they were working. It was a gift that she'd let her guard down enough, in her personal space, to address him by his first name. Back to the business at hand though, plenty of time for contemplation later.

"Good, 'cause I've got one." He described how they could get close by acting like a harmless drunken couple. God knew he'd been to enough bars and parties to have seen examples.

Exiting the car, he chuckled and she followed suit with a surprisingly girly giggle. He reached for her and she allowed him to tuck her under his arm, leaning heavily against his side. He fought to focus on their job, not how wonderful it felt to have her so close. They staggered and wobbled toward the big man, somehow managing not to trip one another. Under the fringe of his hair, he noted the sentry descending the steps toward them. Kate leaned her head on his shoulder so that her mouth would be closer to his ear. Her voice was musical but her words were ominous. "He's not buying it, Castle."

She pulled away from his side and spun into his path, reaching for her gun. 'No,' he thought. 'not yet.'

He pulled her hand away from the stock and spun her so that he was between her and the danger. He cursed the fact that vests hadn't been possible, even under their coats the bulkiness would have been obvious. As he turned her his hand came up to the back of her neck, holding her fast. She looked stunned, irritated that he'd thwarted her draw.

He'd written enough of these scenes to have mapped this out in his head, but he'd been afraid to tell her about plan B, for fear she'd dismiss the idea, even with so much at stake. The rejection would have been unbearable. With his eyes he begged her, "Go with this, it's a better plan," a split second before he drew her in to the kiss. There was no need to fake the passion, not on his part. He brought her to his lips like a man dying of thirst, faced with a drink of water. And really, _hadn't_ he been thirsting for her, for years now? After a couple of seconds, he felt her pulling away, and released the pressure on her neck. She stared at him, utterly shocked, before glancing to the side, presumably to the thug still moving toward them. Apparently having come to a decision, she stepped forward to resume the kiss. Her hands came up around his shoulders, even roaming through his hair, and at one point he could swear she let out a little whimper. Suddenly she broke away and turned them so she could step past him, winding up and bashing the guy across the back of the head. It all happened so fast he had no idea how she even got her gun out.

The words slipped out before he could stop them, born of wonder and reverence. "That was _amazing."_

Still trying to catch her breath she turned to look at him, reluctantly it seemed.

He covered, knowing this wasn't the time for declarations. "The, the way you knocked him out, I mean. It was…" he let the sentence trail.

She looked at him, then away. "Let's go…yeah." He allowed himself a second or two to revel in the fact that she was just as thrown as he was. He'd known they would be great together, had told her so after she'd turned down his dinner and…whatever offer almost two years ago. He really hadn't been prepared for the…enthusiastic nature of her response, though. He realized he'd been holding his breath, just like he had when she'd followed his suggestion to "pop one more button" and just like that time, his body finally reminded him to breath. He swiped at his lips and followed her in.

She picked off the first guy with impressive ease. He stayed down as she engaged in a shootout with the second one. He watched as she and Lockwood played cat and mouse, but suddenly he realized the sniper had her in his line of sight. With no time to consider options, he acted on instinct. He dove for the man and brought him down as the rifle went off. He straddled him and hit him once, twice, three times, and suddenly Lockwood was unconscious. Chest heaving, he stared down at the man, willing him to wake so he could take him apart some more, this man who had ended Raglan's 'deathbed confession'.

Beckett's voice brought him to the present. "Castle, you ok?" She was staring pointedly at his fist, bloodied and still clenched. He wondered idly how much of the blood was his, and how much was from Lockwood's face.

"Huh?" He glanced down, then back to her. "Never better," he replied. He'd been her champion, and that was the best feeling in the world.

Later she approached the ambulance as the EMT was just finishing the gauze wrap on his hand. She climbed in as he started unwinding the too-tight bandage. "Hey there, Chuck Norris."

He allowed a small, self deprecating chuckle even as he winced at the pain. To his surprise, she reached for his hand and began to re-wrap it. "How's the hand?" she asked, her eyes on her work.

"Uh, excruciating."

She hummed and nodded knowingly.

"How's Ryan and Esposito?"

"Mmm, mild hypothermia and wounded pride. Guess which one will heal first?" Their eyes met and he grinned at the sparkle in hers. She finished winding the gauze and tucked the end under, smoothing the edge by his wrist almost tenderly, before she continued. "Thank you," she said simply.

His eyes did the asking for his voice, and she heard. 'For what?'

"For having my back in there."

He put as much promise as he dared into the single word reply, again backing it up with his eyes. "Always."

Could she tell how sincerely he meant it? How he'd be there for her, plucky sidekick, partner, friend, more, if she'd let him, forever? Because now that he'd felt their connection, there would be no walking away from her.

Sure, Josh was an obstacle to overcome, but what great love didn't have obstacles. Clearly he wasn't right for her, she hadn't even shared her murder board with him. Castle himself had been perceptive enough to read her on day two, and after just a few weeks she had opened up enough to tell him the rest of the story. That had to mean something, right?

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_**I have been toying with the idea of writing the same chapter from Kate's perspective. Feedback anyone?**_


	2. Kate

********

Well, folks I have to say I was bowled over by the reaction to this! 20 reviews and a slew of alerts and favorites. Seriously, I'm doing the Snoopy Happy dance here. In response to the feedback I have, indeed, created Kate's version. I thought about doing it from the very beginning, since obviously most of the ep was about her, but in the end I opted to just do a mirror version of chapter one, with something extra thrown in.

I am immensely grateful to everyone for reading and showing their support in various ways.

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Kate sat behind the wheel of her car, watching the sentry through her night vision spyglass. Castle, wisely, was silent.

Since the conspiracy involved cops, she was sure they were all well aware of the hostage recovery playbook. Hell, they were dealing with veteran cops, which meant some of them had likely written it.

Fortunately she had a writer of her own on her team, one who specialized in thinking out of the box.

"He's gonna see SWAT coming a block away, warn Lockwood. We call in the cavalry and then they're both dead." It made her more than a little ill to even give voice to that thought, that her boys were in the middle of this mess after they'd gone to bat for her not once but twice.

"I'm open to dumb ideas, here."

She was only faintly surprised when he responded immediately to her cheekily worded request for help.

"Good, because I've got one."

Apparently when he'd been sitting quietly, he'd been hatching schemes in his head, because when she turned to look at him, he laid out his plan: Get close by appearing to be a harmless drunken couple. Easy enough, as a beat cop she'd been one of the best judges of sobriety/inebriation in her squad. She tamped down the memories of her own father drowning his misery at the loss of her mother.

Thinking about Castle's plan, she realized that more than familiarity would be necessary to pull it off, and the thought spooked her for a minute.

They got out of the car, him first, then her. Normally this would be the time they pulled their vests out of the trunk, but clearly that was not an option now. He came around the trunk and held his arms out to her. She let him tuck her under his arm, like some mama bird protecting her chicks. She leaned into his side and they wobble-staggered toward the thug on the stoop. The guy immediately left his post and headed their way.

'Shit,' she thought. She lolled her head across his shoulder and in a sing-song voice she warned her…she'd better get used to thinking it…partner. "He's not buying it, Castle." Back in her apartment she finally let herself cross a line of familiarity by calling him 'Rick' but now she needed the safety of calling him what she always did.

She wasn't fond of going on the offensive at this distance, but it truly was the best defense. She moved out of the shelter of Rick's arm and reached for her gun. He surprised her then, turning himself into the line of sight/fire. She let the irritation show for a second, right up until she realized he had also brought his hand up behind her neck, leaving them mere inches apart. The intensity in his gaze stunned her, and there was something else, a silent plea... 'Trust me.' Then he was leaning in and pulling her to him all at once and all she saw were stars. She let the kiss go on for a few seconds, feeling him smooth his hand along her back, before pulling away.

She let her shock show, but then there was no time for comment because the watchman was still coming. Glancing over Rick's shoulder one last time, she closed the gap and kissed him again. In the arms of this man, who'd been her rock through this whole thing…she could lose herself if she wasn't careful. She let the passion have its head, for the sake of believability she told herself, all the while casting furtive glances at their audience. Finally after what seemed an eternity, he chuckled and turned away, deciding they weren't a threat. She broke the kiss, pulled her gun and struck him in the back.

Still catching her breath, she heard Castle speak from behind her. "That was amazing." She could think of a few other words, but it really wasn't the time OR place. Suddenly it occurred to her to wonder what he must be thinking of her oh-so-eager participation in their charade. It _was_ a charade, wasn't it? After all, she had…Josh…so this wasn't … it didn't mean…She turned slowly to look at him. He started to falter and backpedal, stammering. "The…the way you knocked him out. It was…"

Wow he looked as freaked out as she felt, which was probably why she was at a loss for a comeback any better than, "Let's go…yeah." Walking ahead of him, she was sure he wouldn't see her brush her lips with her fingers. As they passed under her nose, she caught a whiff of something foreign, masculine. Oh, holy hell, she remembered now, stroking the back of his head, and his scent, cologne or, more likely, knowing him, hair product, had transferred.

Inside she heard voices, including Esposito's panicked "NO, NO NO" Blessedly she was able to take out the first guy without much effort, the one with a gun trained on Ryan's prone form. The second put up a better fight, but she eventually got her shot. After trading gunfire with Lockwood, she found a fairly protected nook and reloaded, waiting, mentally regrouping. Suddenly she heard a grunt followed a split second later by a shot, then more grunting and…hitting? She ran toward the sound to find Castle straddling an unconscious Lockwood, bloodied fist still poised.

He didn't look up when she approached. "Castle, you ok?"

He looked a little surprised now. "Huh?" He looked down at Lockwood, then back at her. "Never better."

Outside, after checking on her boys and dealing with all the official crap, she sought Rick out. She found him sitting in an ambulance, having his hand bandaged. Jesus, she'd put him in an ambulance.

As soon as the EMT departed and she was sure she wouldn't be in the way, she climbed up and sat across from him. "Hey there, Chuck Norris." That made him smile a little. Good, he needed that after everything he'd seen in the last two days. He was already undoing the wrap, child that he was.

"How's the hand?" she asked, watching him flex it and wince.

"Excruciating."

She made a sound of acknowledgement. She'd broken her hand once or twice in the line of duty, and it hurt like hell. She took the end of the gauze away from him and began to re-wrap it, not quite as tightly this time.

"How are Ryan and Esposito?" she heard him ask.

"Mild hypothermia, wounded pride. Guess which will heal first?" Now that they were out of danger, a small chuckle at their expense was fair game, especially in the name of lightening the mood.

Finally she got to the real reason she had needed to see him. "Thanks." His eyes searched hers inquisitively. "For having my back in there."

A broader smile from him now. "Always." She believed it, too. From the moment back in her apartment when she asked him why he kept coming back and he had, eventually, referred to himself as her partner, she knew he meant it, and would do anything for her.

Still, the next part she knew she had to do alone. Not because it was dangerous, but because she'd rather not have him witness her visit to Lockwood, or whoever he was, in prison. She'd rather that no one see her, in her desperate need to get to the truth, resort to making threats. These would not be the bluffs she played in the box, with team mates, supervisors and sometimes lawyers watching. These would be honest-to-God coercive statements that this son of a bitch would be coming to harm, and it would be her doing. She wasn't proud of crossing that line, but at no other time had the ends MORE justified the means. She WAS proud that she'd kept so composed while she did it. It wasn't until she was back in her car that she allowed the sobbing to overtake her.

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**_Someone mentioned wanting to see Martha's view, I might well do that one next. In the mean time, more reviews would be much appreciated._**


	3. Martha

**Chapter 3**

Martha thanked God when heard her son come home after an absence of nearly 24 hours. When Richard left the day before, he was in a hurry, so much so that, though he was with Beckett, which meant police business, he hadn't taken the time to change out of his casual attire and into one of his dress shirt/sport jacket ensembles. When he hadn't returned home by midnight, she'd chalked it up to a time consuming case. But then she'd heard the press conference given by Roy Montgomery, about a retired officer slain in a diner, in the presence of a detective and _her_ partner. Nothing had been said about injuries to anyone else, so she waited for him to return.

She waited, though it was difficult, as he showered and changed, giving him a little time to himself. When the clink of a decanter on a glass met her ears, signaling that he was likely settling in with something to steady his nerves, she made her appearance. She noted the heavy sigh he heaved as he settled back into the couch cushions, and without preamble she began.

"What if it had been you?"

He sat back up to greet her. "Didn't know you were home."

"I heard about the shooting on the news. It could have been you, you know that, don't you."

"Yeah, but I'm fine. It wasn't me." He waved her concerns aside.

"Richard, this isn't one of your books. You don't know the ending. You were just lucky yesterday."

"You're overreacting, Mother, where is this coming from?" His half smile, most likely intended to put her at ease, only served to stoke the fire of her response.

"How can the hell can you ask me something like that? Think about how much you love Alexis and that is how much I love you, so don't you DARE ask me where this is _coming from." _She took a breath to compose herself before continuing. "You have gotten through most of your life on your wit and charm and no small amount of talent but that is the real world out there and you can't _charm_ your way out of a bullet."

She watched him set down his drink before he turned back to her. "You think I should quit?"

"I think you should be honest with yourself about why you're doing this. You have written twenty two novels before you met her and you didn't need to spend every day in a police station in order to finish them."

To his credit, he didn't seek refuge in humor. Holding her gaze, he confessed "It's not about the books anymore."

And there it was. If he wasn't motivated by gathering stories and experiences to make his novels more authentic, then he could only be doing it to stay by _her_ side. Kate Beckett, one of the few women ever to be immune to his charm, and for the longest time Martha swore it was just a forbidden fruit thing. When he'd come home with a shiner, almost two years ago now, because he'd been laid out trying to stop a fleeing suspect, he wore it like a badge of honor, particularly when the Detective called him 'pretty butch' the next morning on her visit to return Martha's necklace.

For her part, Martha had been a little horrified to know that her son had been in a physical confrontation with a man that other criminals avoided. There had been other times, too, when his guardian angel must have been working overtime. In the alley, at the conclusion of the case that had brought Kate and Rick into one another's lives, he'd chased a suspect and ended up at gunpoint. The night at the police station when that Coonan person had used Rick as a human shield. What on earth had he been thinking, trying to disable the man himself, in a room full of police officers?

Then most horrifying of all, up to yesterday, of course, was his run-in with the 'triple killer'. His quick wits had helped discern the identity of the man who had ended eight lives, only to end up at that man's mercy. When she called about Alexis and Ashley, she knew instantly that something was amiss, he was so…subdued. Then those three words. "I love you." Under normal circumstances, a son telling his mother that he loved her would be fairly commonplace. But theirs was an unconventional relationship, and they normally saved expressions like that for moments of deep significance, not telephone chats about secret admirers. When she went over the conversation in her head, she realized he hadn't called her 'Mother' or anything else. The odd nature of the call was enough to get her on the phone to the Detective to check things out.

Once or twice Martha had idly wondered if it would do any good to have a private chat with Kate herself. Perhaps if they spoke, woman to woman, Martha could convince Kate to please stop putting her son in harm's way. But that was just the irrational thinking of a mother bear. She knew, from his stories, that the detective tried her best to protect him, from himself as well as the criminal population of New York. She knew that the couple of times Kate HAD actually banished him from her life, he'd been sulky and miserable. She also knew that he would be furious with her for trying to interfere in his life.

One day later, Rick came home from helping Kate recover their captured team mates, and his hand was bandaged, fractured, and she wished she HAD initiated a conversation with his _partner_. Oddly, despite the pain, he looked thrilled.

"What's got you so happy?"

"You remember about a year ago, when you said I should 'kiss that girl while we're both young'? Well…I did. And it was incredible. Unfortunately it was primarily because we needed to create a diversion, so that Kate could knock out this sentry, but…" he blew out a breath. "Something more happened. And someday, God willing, I'll be able to get her to admit that."


	4. Roy

_**I had requests for more of this story but it took a while for it to gel in my head. I guess it helped that I had a day in bed, trying to fight a nasty cold. I will say that a large chunk of this one is simply a transcript of the awesome dialogue that Andrew Marlow and company provide for us, but true to form I've given it an "inside the head" view. Anyway, enjoy, and thank you ever so much to all of the folks that put this in their alert and favorite list. **_

Captain Roy Montgomery was having the worst three days of his career. It had started when he'd had to face one of his worst nightmares. The ultimate worst was losing an officer in the line of duty. But this, it was almost enough to drive a man mad. There he stood, questioning Kate Beckett, who he'd seen go off the rails before.

"Retired NYPD cop gunned down in front of one of my people, which means I'm gonna have to do a damn press conference. Tell me you didn't come down here without backup." He didn't have to tell her he wasn't referring to the writer shadow that he now counted among his friends and poker buddies.

Her answer came in the form of a sheepish look, and she began an explanation "Sir, I…"

She was cut off when Ryan piped up. "We were backing her, Captain."

Then Esposito, confirming, albeit lamely. "Yeah, we were just, uh, down the block when it happened."

He gruffly accepted their show of solidarity, grumbling and waving them away.

Turning his attention back to Beckett, he demanded "What the hell am I gonna do with you?"

"You're gonna let me work this case."

"You're too close to it, it's all over your face. You're thinking, 'What was Raglan going to tell me before he died' when you should be thinking how you're gonna catch the guy that killed him."

Her rebuttal was immediate. "Sir, Raglan was killed because he was gonna tell me something about my mother's case. Nobody knows it better than I do."

"Yeah but I know YOU. You wanna pick up those scissors and run around the house with them. But I'm telling you now, walk, don't run. Go where the evidence leads, not the other way around. Do you read me?"

"Yes sir, loud and clear."

* * *

The next wave of his nightmare had hit when he heard the crash of glass followed by raised voices coming from the interrogation room. He got into the observation room next door just in time to see Vulcan Simmons pressed up against the shattered mirror, and Ryan and Esposito forming a human wall between him and Beckett and Castle, both of whom looked ready to take the man apart with their bare hands. Hell, his best detective had tried to do just that. He'd hauled her into his office and began the verbal flogging that was required by protocol in cases such as these.

"I'm gonna have to kick that sonofabitch loose now, you realize that?"

"Sir you heard him, he as much as confessed to the murder."

"Come on. He's playing you, and you let him get under your skin like a damn rookie. We've got nothing to tie him to Raglan's murder or your mother's."

She was barely holding onto her composure, he could see it, which made what he needed to say next both painful and prudent.

"You're off this case."

"No, Sir, you can't do that, not now."

"I just did"

"No"

"I JUST DID. Now you go home."

He stared her down, telling her with his glare not to push it. He followed her out of his office, watched as she grabbed her coat and retreated, with Castle calling after her. "Beckett? Kate!"

Roy sighed. Now to deal with his second administrative headache. "You too, Castle, clear out."

"Me, what did I do?"

"I don't need you playing Nancy Drew on this."

He stepped around Rick, unable to acknowledge either of their frustration because he had one more unpleasant duty.

"As of this moment you two are running point on Raglan's homicide."

He cringed internally at the look that passed between Ryan and Esposito."

"Uh sir, my partner and I do not wish to be insubordinate."

"We respectfully decline the assignment."

He got it, the whole blue wall thing, and in a way he was proud of his boys for being willing to tank their own careers for her, but right now loyalty wasn't going to get the job done.

"What does it say on my badge?"

"Captain."

"Now read the fine print. It says get your asses out there and solve Raglan's murder before I bust you both back down to traffic. You want to help her, find that shooter. Solve the damn case!"

* * *

He had to hand it to them, they did some damn fine work. They spotted the key card being lifted, figured out that a woman's arm might hold a fingerprint, which led them to the shooter's hiding spot. There they found surveillance photos of Beckett and Castle. Another nightmare scenario; his people with a target on their foreheads. He went personally to notify Beckett.

"Ryan and Esposito traced your sniper to a corporate suite in midtown. He's been on you since Raglan's murder. This isn't just a kook with a deer rifle and a copy of Catcher in the Rye. This guy's a professional, highly trained and well funded, maybe part of a team"

Her response spoke volumes about their partner bond. "Sir, we've gotta let Castle know."

"He does. He's back at the 12th. I caught him in the men's room poking through some old reports. You wanna tell me about that?"

"You really wanna know?" she asked dryly.

"Listen, I'm gonna have to put a detail on you, but I need you to stay home."

"If this sniper is after me, the safest place in the city is the 12th, you gotta let me have this, Roy. Let me come back and work my mom's case."

It had pained him to deny her request, but between the risk to her life and her lack of objectivity, he had to stand firm .

"No. I'm sorry. Absolutely not.

* * *

The next thing he knew, he had the whole damn lot of them in his office, like a bunch of kids in a sit-down with the principal. "We'll talk about the definition of a direct order later. Right now I just want to hear what you found."

He listened as Beckett and Castle laid out the story of Pulgati, the slain Fed and the botched kidnapping, and Raglan's alleged role in all of it. The boys added their piece, that Raglan's partner McAlister was likely involved.

His edict was simple, and absolved them all. The notion of a dirty cop was far more offensive than his team's well intentioned disobedience. "Go get that son of a bitch."

After McAlister lawyered up, revealing nothing more than the fact that Beckett and her team had woken a "dragon", they'd gone to track down the sniper's girlfriend. Montgomery listened with a knot forming in his stomach at light speed as Beckett told what she'd heard through the phone. He scrambled a team to Ryan and Esposito's last known location, where all that remained were their phones and an empty flash bang grenade.

He relayed the news to a stressed Beckett, who he knew was frantically doing her thing with her partner at her side. All he could do was sit back and wait. He scrubbed at his head, willing the fear away. A glimmer of confidence took its place. Castle and Beckett did some of their best "outside the box" thinking when the chips were really down, and few things fit that bill better than officers as hostages.

He breathed an enormous sigh of relief when he got Beckett's call, requesting support and ambulances. The only players with bullet holes were suspects, and that made it a very good day. The fact that Castle had busted his hand knocking out Lockwood would only mean they would have something very interesting to chat about at the next poker game.

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_**Ok I've let you hear some of Roy's inner thoughts, now can I hear some of yours? All you need to do is click 'review' and sound off. Thanks!**_


	5. Javier & Kevin

**I had a few requests to write this chapter. It took me longer because they actually appear in a number of scenes. I say _they_ because I made the decision that since the guys are a unit, I would include them both in the same chapter. Otherwise it really would have seemed like you were reading the same chapter twice. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the result. Even though the episode was a whole month ago, it was so popular that I think it's still in the forefront of the collective fan brain.**

* * *

The scene in front of the diner was chaos. Organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Police cars, crime scene units, press vans. Lanie's 'morgue mobile' of course, ready to transport Raglan's body (though since the man had been shot right in front of Beckett and had died right under Castle's hands, COD was pretty much a no-brainer). Fortunately this worked in their favor, two more people milling about, no one would know where they came from. So Ryan and Esposito were able to sidle up just as Captain Montgomery was reading her the riot act.

"Tell me you didn't come down here without backup."

Ryan spoke first. "We were backing her, Captain."

Then Esposito, confirming, albeit lamely. "Yeah, we were just, uh, down the block when it happened." Montgomery waved them away with a sound of disbelief.

Esposito shot Beckett a faint amused smile as he brushed past. It spoke volumes that the captain was so clearly pretending to believe them so he didn't have to officially reprimand Kate.

The boys hovered, waiting to see what she needed. They watched the green beam of the laser pointer slice the darkness and glint off a window in the distance. "Alright, I make the building across the street, fourth floor. Esposito?"

"Yeah. I'll lock it down. Somebody had to have seen something."

"Ryan, I am betting that Raglan's murderer followed him here. Can you check with his neighbors and see if anyone was hanging around his place this morning?"

He tried to put what reassurance he could into three small words. "You got it."

Each had been given an assignment, a divide and conquer approach, and they complied eagerly, knowing this was no ordinary case. They reported back to her at the precinct with their findings. Ryan had discovered information about the visits of Raglan's ex-partner, which had her requesting that he be brought in for an interview. Esposito told them that surveillance video from the secure lobby turnstile was impending.

The interview with McAllister had turned up a suspect, Vulcan Simmons. Esposito made good on his promise to "have him in the box before lunch". Simmons was as slimy as they came, and worked to push as many of Beckett and Castle's buttons as possible.

"Shit," swore Ryan when she finally snapped and lunged for him.

They got into the interrogation room as fast as they could. They faintly heard her shout "Back off, Castle!" and knew if she wouldn't let HIM near her to talk her down…

Each man had his own approach.

Esposito, ex-military, took the hard line. "Stand down."

Ryan opted for the brotherly route. "That's enough."

She wasn't moving, and Esposito knew he had to get through the red haze of fury, make his voice reach her before she did something to actually damage her career. He suspected Simmons would have no trouble filing police brutality charges if she put a single mark on him. Javier raised his voice a few decibels and used the kind of tone one normally reserved for subordinates. "STAND _down._" He even had to physically separate her from Simmons.

The sadistic bastard had the nerve to goad Castle just a little more, especially now that he had witnesses. "You want some, too?" Castle started forward. With Beckett out of the way, Esposito was able to stand directly between the two bigger men, praying that he wouldn't have to lay his hands on another one of his partners in defense of a scumbag suspect. He pushed Simmons back to the wall and waved Castle away.

Blessing and cursing the fact that neither the Captain nor Beckett had closed his office door, they listened with discomfort as she was reprimanded, taken off the case and sent home. Castle, who had been near their desks for the whole thing, called after her and was summarily dismissed by the boss.

There was no time to feel sorry for Castle or Beckett, because suddenly Montgomery was assigning Raglan's case to them. They came to silent agreement with one glance.

"Uh sir, my partner and I do not wish to be insubordinate."

"We respectfully decline the assignment."

"What does it say on my badge?"

"Captain."

"Now read the fine print. It says get your asses out there and solve Raglan's murder before I bust you both back down to traffic."

They accepted his rebuke with quietly echoed "Yes sir"s.

"You want to help her, find that shooter. Solve the damn case!"

Going through footage from the lobby, Ryan commented that the shooter would have needed to break down the gun into a less conspicuous shape, concealed in a briefcase.

"Everybody there has a briefcase."

"Gee, you should be a detective," Ryan retorted. At Javier's death glare, he softly added, "We can't come up empty on this one."

When they spotted someone lift a keycard from a woman as he knocked her down, Ryan asserted that if they could get a print off bodies, why not live flesh.

Esposito was skeptical. "She probably already showered."

"It's Saturday, barely after noon, we might get lucky."

They brought the woman, a flaky chatterbox, into the lab. The fuming process did indeed yield a fingerprint, which they matched to Hal Lockwood. His credit card activity revealed a hotel stay. Breaking down the door, they found surveillance photos of Beckett, some even with Castle. Esposito's gut twisted when he realized that if someone had gotten that close with a camera, doing so with a sniper rifle would be child's play.

They collected a sandwich baggie of yellow capsules, which led them to a snotty college kid who was using his chemistry courses to earn money as a dealer. He slung thinly veiled insults at the pair while hiding behind the relative safety of daddy's lawyer on retainer. When normal means to extract Lockwood's contact information from him failed, they threatened to introduce him to 'Peppermint', a sex offender in holding. "I'm sure he'd love to make the acquaintance of a man of your…station."

That got them the name 'Jolene' and enough identifiers to yield only two hits in the DMV database. Beckett assigned one of the women to them and said she and Castle would seek out the other.

They were just climbing the stairs when Esposito's phone rang.

"Jolene Granger is dead." Hearing this, he turned and motioned to Ryan to go back down. The next noise he heard was the metallic clink of the grenade hitting the cement stairs below Ryan's feet. Crying out, they threw themselves away from it seconds before they were both rendered temporarily blind and deaf.

Rough hands bound their wrists behind them. Similar reasoning was going through both their minds. Not rope or cuffs, zip ties, probably. After a short van ride, they were led inside and forced to their knees. The hoods were removed and each man regarded his partner beside him in identically dire straits. In front of them was a water-filled trough into which ice was being dumped. Esposito assessed their situation. Three captors, one to manhandle each of them, and Lockwood, their ringleader.

Lockwood gave them some bullshit line about respect, maybe trying to soften them before he began his threats. "Tell me now, one pro to another, what the police know about me and my boss, and I'll put a bullet in your brain. You don't, you jerk me around and you will be begging me to before this night is over."

Ryan glanced to Esposito, letting him speak for both. Option A was a lose/lose. No way were they going to divulge the details of the investigation, especially when it might mean giving the co-conspirators a head start. Their only hope was to hold out. Since Esposito had been on the phone with Beckett when the grenade went off, she had to have heard, had to know something bad happened. That would drive her to find them.

Esposito refused to let any of the terror show. He responded almost lazily."I'm gonna go with option B."

Ryan added his spunky two cents. "Oh yeah, we're definitely gonna jerk you around."

They chose him, maybe because he was slightly smaller or maybe because he was dressed more for standing in front of a room full of students than standing behind a badge. Whatever the reason, he'd been identified as the weak link. They forced his head under the water and he struggled. Esposito watched, struggling too, hoping for a chance to break free, even after they put a choke rope around his thick neck. When they let Ryan up, all he gave them was more attitude.

"Listen, ass clown, I went to catholic school for twelve years. They used to do this to us just for talking in class." Under he went.

Trying to hold his breath, the freezing water stinging his skin, Ryan heard his partner's voice, muffled through the water and his fear. "ALRIGHT!"

Sputtering and spitting, he protested "Don't tell this jackhole anything." _Because of me_ he added silently.

"I'm sorry, bro, I can't stand to watch anymore." He let his voice waver a little. Let them think it was because they had broken him. Really, it was relief that his partner was still conscious. "Listen, you're too late. The cops know all about… me and your mom." He finished with a laugh.

Lockwood was almost droll in his instruction. "Shoot out his knee cap."

Esposito protested frantically. "No no NO"

"Gun"

Suddenly bullets were flying overhead. A red mist exploded from the chest of the guy about to shoot Kevin. Beckett came into view and engaged creep number two, eventually getting her shot and picking him off. Javier had to sit up to avoid being nicked by a stray shot after he went down.

But where the hell was everyone else? Was she going to take down these mopes single-handedly? The quiet was punctuated by periodic gunfire. Suddenly Castle appeared from atop a platform and flying tackled Lockwood, before straddling him and punching his lights out. Un-freakin-believable. It was over, they were alive, and their rescue team was a vest-less detective and an unarmed writer.

* * *

**_I think that might be it for this story. There have been some requests for aftermath chapters, which would obviously be TOTAL speculation. I MIGHT do just one, if the interest is very high._**


	6. All Together Now

_**There was much interest in my writing a chapter like this, so I hope it meets your expectations!**_

A few weeks after the Raglan case was closed, the gang gathered at Castle's loft for a night of cards. He had invited everyone, including Lanie, now that the cat was out of the bag about her relationship with Esposito. Since that brought the headcount to seven, Martha volunteered to sit out and play bartender instead. Rick bit back the smartass comment that immediately sprung to mind, something about playing to her strengths.

They had played a few hands when Roy broached the subject. "So, Castle, how's the hand feeling?**"**

"Fine," he quickly responded. He fidgeted with his chips for a second before his hand vanished under the table so that he could flex it. In reality it was still a bit sore, but he didn't want Kate to think he was fishing for sympathy, so he slipped into stoic guy mode.

"That was one impressive flying tackle, I'll tell you that," Esposito piped up. "Who knew quick wits and a mean right cross were the only things needed to take out a sniper."

"Don't forget a partner drawing his fire," Castle rebutted, just a shade too loudly, casting a fleeting glance at Martha. He kicked Esposito under the table to catch his eye, then threw a meaningful look over toward the counter, shaking his head subtly.

Lanie caught the exchange and saw a chance to change the subject. "All I know is when I heard that the dynamic duo there had been taken, I had some words with the man upstairs, and I DON'T mean the Mayor. I said 'Lord, if you put those boys on my table tonight, I'mma come up there and kick some ass, starting with yours.'"

There was a short burst of laughter around the table as all processed the mental image, but the underlying notion of how much worse it could have gone sobered them quickly.

After a couple of cocktails, Ryan gathered the nerve to ask the question that had been fueling the precinct rumor mill for quite some time. The only reason it had fallen to him to pose the question was because he'd lost a bet with Esposito. Many had tried to get the info out of Castle, figuring he would jump at the chance to brag about his heroics. He'd been uncharacteristically humble about the whole thing. 'Beckett did the heavy lifting, I just tried to stay out of her way.' Beckett herself merely raised an eyebrow and muttered something about standard procedures. But now the two were center stage, work could not be used as an excuse to deflect, and if their story differed from what was in the written report, Roy was there to call their bluff.

"So here's what we've been wondering. The big guy that was on his face outside the warehouse…How exactly did you two take him out? No offense, Beckett, but we could tell just by the way they handled us, by the way they talked, that they were _well_ trained."

As in previous games, the two were seated side by side. Now they exchanged a long look. Castle raised one eyebrow at Beckett. Sometimes being the storyteller of the group was a pain in the ass. He itched to spin them a tale, all about how she'd accepted his idea (though it would be referred to as 'inspired', not 'dumb'). How he'd seen it was, to use Pulgati's vernacular, 'going sideways' just by the purposeful way the thug had moved toward them. How he'd changed up the plan and dragged her along for the ride.

It all sounded great in his head…right up to the part where she'd clearly been as lost in the moment as he had been. Granted, she'd only lost her hold on her focus momentarily, then she was right back and struck at the perfect moment. But that moment was a precious gift to him. He wasn't certain that he could tell the story without the note of wonder creeping into his voice again. If the boys heard _that_, they would _know_, beyond certainty, that kiss was not only a diversionary ploy. Castle didn't like the consequences of that. It was an intimate moment and it should remain so. A gentleman shouldn't kiss and tell. He had one other, less altruistic motive for keeping silent. If he spoke about the kiss, Beckett had three choices. She could flat out accuse him of lying, which would slice a nasty rift in their partnership. She could downplay it, insist it was all a stellar acting job, which would cheapen the experience so much it might actually cause him physical pain. Or she could admit that what had started out as a ploy had transformed into so much more. Yeah. Like hell _that _was going to happen, with five other people in the room and Dr. Motorcycle Boy still on her speed dial.

Beckett held his gaze, watching the emotions play across his face. Impish challenge gave way to, whoa, something warm and fuzzy that she dared not put a name on, before shifting again, to wariness, tinged with just a little sadness. She glanced over to Martha, the only person in the room that knew him better than she did. To her surprise, his mother was casting only furtive glances at them, appearing to be busy straightening glasses. Kate quickly surmised that the only reason Martha didn't seem to be interested in the answer to the question was because she knew already, really _knew._

Clearly the ball was in her court, either to tell the story or give him permission to.

* * *

_**This is where I got stuck, trying to decide which path she'll take. I was just going to save the document and go to bed, hoping the answer would come in my dreams. But then I got the evil idea to just publish this much, and get a feel for where you, the reader, would like to see it go. Do I stay true to canon, where she is conflicted, or go with the more theraputic 'she finally gets her head out of her butt and admits what's going on'? Cast your vote below!**_


	7. The Tale is Told

__

_****_

_**So I learned that it's not so good to post when I'm that tired. I thought I was offering two choices but I see now I gave you three. I think I've got something that will make everyone happy, though.**_

* * *

Kate shifted uncomfortably in her chair, realizing that all eyes were on her, on them. It was like being on the witness stand in court. She took a sip of her drink, realizing that the longer she delayed in telling the story, the bigger the deal they would think it was.

Finally she shrugged. "We lulled him into a false sense of security, enough so he turned his back on me, and I knocked him out cold."

"Yeah, but _how?"_

"We made ourselves seem as harmless as possible."

"Yes, that was already implied." Lanie spoke up now, adopting a tone normally used by a mother interrogating her children as to which one broke the lamp. "He would only have felt secure if you seemed incapable of harming him. What we are asking is what convinced him?"

"We appeared to be inebriated."

"And?"

"And…very occupied with one another."

"Occupied." Now it was Esposito's turn.

"Yes. Castle communicated…something to me, something he was very passionate about, then I offered my rebuttal. There was more input from both sides, and a rather intense struggle ensued in which we each sought to gain the upper hand. The thug was so drawn in by this…powerful expression of our needs, he totally dropped his guard, convinced we were no threat. And then I brained him," she finished with a satisfied nod.

Kate had been looking around the table as she spun her tale. As she finished speaking she'd made her way back around to Castle, who sat smiling at her, incredulous.

The others looked to Roy for confirmation. "That's what the report says. Though it was phrased a little differently."

"How _was_ it phrased?" Lanie asked, the one person with least access to said report.

"In the report Detective Beckett refers to it as a marital squabble, and I think she used a more official word than 'brained'"

Castle had chosen that unfortunate moment to take a sip of his beer, which was promptly propelled back up by a coughing fit.

He regarded Beckett. "I'm sorry, I thought you didn't want to be married to me."

"I don't, why do you think we were squabbling?" she retorted with a wink. She concentrated on taking a sip of her drink, trying to ignore the three sets of suspicious eyes trained on her. Finally she looked up. "So are we going to finish this game or what?"

When the last hand was played, Kate stood up from the table a hundred dollars richer. Esposito and Lanie made their exit first, followed not long after by Ryan and the Captain. Kate lingered, gathering glasses to bring to the kitchen. She felt a gentle hand on her wrist. "Dear," Martha began with a knowing look, "when you retire from police work, you ought to consider trying your hand at theater. I do believe you have a knack for it." With a showy yawn she drifted back out to the living room, where Kate heard her bidding her son goodnight.

Kate ventured back out with the full knowledge that, for the time being, they were alone. She glanced around, unsure of what to do next. "Well, I guess I'll be going," she offered weakly.

"Don't you think we ought to talk?" he asked softly.

"About what?"

"For starters, about how you're allowed to lie like that on an official report?" he teased.

"Yeah, well, I didn't particularly want to have our first kiss chronicled in the news paper's police blotter section, did you?"

"No, I get enough press coverage as it is… Hold it." He paused, processing what she'd said. "_First_ kiss. As in 'beginning of a sequence', _that_ first? As in 'more will be following'?" He watched her carefully, not daring to believe his ears. His head was already swimming a little with pride, she'd told the story as well as he could have, if not better, speaking the truth yet still allowing them to keep their experience private.

She crossed to stand before him. "Yes, that 'first'. Exactly when did you start having trouble with basic words?"

"Funny. I think it was right around the time I watched you _talk_ circles around me. Which, by the way, was incredibly hot." His expression sobered. "What about Josh?"

"He's gone again. Off to Haiti to save more lives. I can't compete with that. I particularly can't compete with Nurse Noble Sacrifice who is down there getting cozy with him."

His heart clenched at the bitterness in her voice. He cautiously reached for her, folding her into a hug. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not. It's only fair I guess. My heart had been elsewhere, it just took me a while to admit it." She pulled back to smile up at him.

"So, how high can you count?" he asked, enjoying the perplexed look she gave him. "We're keeping track, right? First kiss, second kiss, nine million four hundred thousand and third kiss?"

"I think after a while the situation matters more than the number."

"Why Detective. I had no idea you were such a romantic!"

"Really? Well now you do. And just to be sure you never forget it…" She reached up and pulled him to her, initiating a kiss that took his breath away. He groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping her head. They stood there, drinking one another in, until Kate began to sway on her feet.

Reluctantly he loosened his hold, still keeping her in the circle of his arms. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. It's late and I'm tired, that's all."

"Well then, let's go to bed."

"That's my plan," she agreed, and hope flared within him, until she reached for her jacket.

He caught her hand. "You're welcome to stay here."

"Do you really think that's the message you want to send Alexis?"

"Please. We're far from strangers. You've done it before."

"Yes, when there was an empty room."

"I would really… love… to wake up with you tomorrow. We don't even have to go any further than we have already. Just let me hold you." When she still looked dubious, he made one last offer. "What if we leave it up to chance." He grabbed the deck of cards off the table. "We'll cut for it. High card wins."

Kate couldn't deny that being in his arms was wonderful. Why not?

He saw her capitulating. "Ladies first?" he offered, holding the deck out to her. She found herself secretly wishing for a low card, and quickly hid her disappointment when she drew a king.

Not relishing the thought of losing, he closed his eyes and cut the deck again. They flew open at her words. "You win after all."

He glanced down at an ace and grinned. "Really? Because we never did establish whether aces were high or low."

"No, no, you won, fair and square. But since I wasn't planning this, do you have a shirt or something I could borrow? Or I could go ask your mom for something."

"NO, no. Let's not disturb her. She needs her beauty sleep. I'm sure I can find something." After all, what man didn't want to see the woman of his dreams clad in one of his shirts?

He motioned for her to go ahead of him, through his study and into his bedroom. He pulled a t-shirt and a pair of draw-string pants out and handed them to her, motioning toward the bathroom.

Closing the door behind her, she was impressed that he was being such a gentleman. She changed, then washed her face. Looking around she realized she didn't' have a toothbrush, so she simply helped herself to a little mouthwash to freshen up. When she opened the door he had already changed for bed, in an outfit very similar to hers. "All yours!" she offered. He grinned wickedly, his eyes traveling over her body. "The…the bathroom, I mean. The bathroom is all yours! Nice try though."

She saw that he had pulled back the covers, so she gingerly slipped between them, waiting. When he emerged from the bathroom, he actually looked a little nervous. He climbed into bed and studied her. "What time do you want the alarm set for?"

She shrugged. "Seven?" He nodded and made the adjustments, then turned out the light and reached for her. As she nestled against him, he both heard and felt the sigh of contentment, and his heart soared.

* * *

**_SO? Is everyone happy now? Can I fire the bodyguard? I'm going to leave this one incomplete for now, in case I feel inspired to continue. I do need to get back to "So Good Together"._**


End file.
